


Try Not To Die

by Kitty Eden (TheBigCat)



Category: Tanis (Podcast)
Genre: Cultists, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, No! Ships! Were! Used! In! The! Making! Of! This! Story!, Post TANIS 112, but you can read it as shippy??? ig uess?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-22
Updated: 2016-09-22
Packaged: 2018-08-16 15:23:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8107606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBigCat/pseuds/Kitty%20Eden
Summary: Nic gets sick. Good thing he has such great friends, right?(Or, MK breaks into Nic’s house at 6 in the morning, Alex switches straight to Mom Mode, Geoff does a questionably good job of keeping away cultists, and Nic’s dog is adorable.)





	

**Author's Note:**

> Pointless, undiluted fluff.

“Nic, get up,” says a familiar voice, and Nic rolls over, confused because nobody should be in his house right now, he’s supposed to be on a very short leave, and even if anybody had worked out just how sick he was, why would MK be here?

But here she is, and she’s standing over his bed with her arms crossed tightly over her chest and her dark hair framing the sort of expression that she normally reserves for when he’s being even more incredibly stupid than usual- according to her, anyway. She’s got a bag slung over her shoulder and now she’s digging in it, muttering angrily to herself.

“MK- wha-?”

“We had a Skype call scheduled this morning, asshole,” she sighs, dropping her bag carelessly on the floor and slamming a small box onto his side table. “You didn’t show, so I hacked your internal CCTV. You should get that sorted, by the way, anyone could look in here.”

“I don’t… have… CCTV?” Nic says, confused. MK lets out a loud, annoyed huff.

“Yeah, whatever. I don’t have time for this. Take the pills, Nic, I’ll go feed your dog.”

“How did you get in my house?” Nic asks, struggling up into a sitting position and eyeing the pills next to his bed dubiously. “And- are you sure these are-”

“Painkillers,” MK says, rolling her eyes. “I’m not trying to _poison_ you; who the fuck do you think I am?” She leaves the room with another roll of her eyes.

Nic reaches for the painkillers- because yeah, his head’s just about killing him at the moment and painkillers sound really good about now- and the cup of water that she’s left there. He overbalances, and topples to the floor, knocking over his lamp as he does so.

There’s vague swearing from the direction of his living room. “Nic, are you dead?” MK yells after a moment.

He considers this seriously for a moment. “Not really,” he calls cautiously back. “But, um, could you-?”

He doesn’t get a chance to reply, because TC bounds into the room with MK in tow, and he could _swear_ that his dog is giving him an honest-to-god disapproving look that actually wouldn’t look out of place on his mother. Or maybe that’s just the fever.

“Cute dog, Nic,” MK sighs, helping him roughly back into bed. “What’s her name?”

“TC,” he mumbles into the pillows. “Short for True Companion.”

MK sighs again, and then laughs, almost like she can’t help it. “Nic, has anybody ever told you how much of a dork you are?”

“Hey,” he says, vaguely offended.

“You fucking went and called your dog _True Companion_.”

“She doesn’t mind,” Nic offers. TC jumps up onto the bed and nuzzles his arm, tucking her head underneath his hand as he absently strokes her fur. “See?”

MK rolls her eyes again- she seems to do that a lot nowadays- and settles for scratching his dog behind the ears. TC loves it, staring up adoringly at MK with those big brown eyes of hers- Nic is beginning to suspect that his dog loves his occasional visitors more than she loves him.

“Okay,” says MK- _scratch scratch scratch._ “I sorted your internal security, no payment necessary. Now creepy cultists can’t look at you while you’re sleeping, or sick, or whatever. Which is looking more and more likely, by the way.”

Nic takes a second to process this, and then smiles. “Thanks, MK. That’s really nice of you.”

“Don’t get all soppy on me, Nicodemus,” says MK, giving him the Look again. “This is for our mutual benefit. You don’t get kidnapped and drugged by members of an Illuminati spinoff organization, and I get enough money to keep paying my internet bills. _Aaaand_ everybody wins.”

“I didn’t realize you cared,” Nic mumbles.

“I don’t,” she says shortly, patting his arm, “much. Get some sleep. I’m going to call Alex.”

Nic groans, and buries his head in the pillows. “You’re what?”

She laughs, not unkindly. “Yeah, you expected me to stick around all day, catering to your every whim? Nope. I’m out of here, Nic. Try not to die before Alex gets here.”

“I’ll try,” Nic promises dubiously, and falls asleep as MK leaves the room.

* * *

 

“I don’t _believe_ you.”

Nic rolls over again, feeling a strange sense of deja-vu.

“-Alex?” he ventures, recognizing the voice- a benefit of working on podcasts for so long, you begin to identify things by sound alone. It’s not in his room, it’s somewhere else- out in the hallway or maybe beyond.

“You’re an idiot, Nic. A complete idiot.”

Nic closes his eyes, and tries to work out why Alex Reagan is in his house, insulting him. This isn’t an unusual occurrence, exactly- she has the keys to his house and sometimes he really does deserve it- but it’s certainly uncommon. She should be at work. She should be working on _The Black Tapes._ She shouldn’t be in his kitchen, swearing vaguely under her breath.

TC, who’s still lying on his bed, opens one of her eyes, and gives him a look that he can’t quite pin down. Something along the lines of _I’m trying to sleep and you’re disturbing me_ , he thinks.

“Me too, girl, me too,” he agrees, and forces himself out of bed, grasping at the side of the cabinet to steady himself. TC settles into the blankets, apparently satisfied at having the whole bed to herself at last.

He awkwardly navigates his way down the hallway and into the kitchen. Alex is staring darkly into the cupboard and muttering to herself. She has _that_ expression on her face- the one he associates with that one time in college when she punched a man double her height and triple her weight because he had called Nic a nerd. She had gotten away with it cleanly too, which probably accounts for the sudden rush of fear that floods through his system.

“Are you… planning to punch somebody?” he ventures, already inwardly cringing. Alex may be small, but she’d probably fight a rhino, given half the chance.

“ _Yes,_ ” she says, swinging around. “Probably. Answer my questions and we’ll see. When was the last time you ate?”

“Um.” He tries to think. It’s hard. “They gave me something to eat at the police station? I think?”

“Before that,” she says flatly.

Nic considers lying. It wouldn’t be a very good idea, he decides. “Not much. You, uh, read my diary- right?”

She stares at him. TC barks from the bedroom, but it isn’t especially urgent.

“I- uh.” He scratches his head. “I think I’m sick, so-”

“I know,” she says. “MK called.”

There’s a short silence. Neither of them can quite think of what to say.

“There’s nothing in your cupboard, Nic,” says Alex quietly, and her murderous expression’s faded from her face. “You haven’t eaten for days, have you?”

Before he can say anything- and his hesitation was probably an answer in itself- she’s whipped out her phone and is dialling a number. She presses it to one ear with her shoulder and she shepherds him towards the ratty old couch in the living room that he’s never quite managed to get rid of.

“Sit,” she says, in the tone of voice one usually reserves for animals and/or small children.

He sits.

She goes and talks at her phone for a few minutes in the corner, and when she comes back, she looks satisfied. “Geoff’s coming over,” she tells him. “He’s going to make sure you don’t do anything stupid.”

“I don’t-” Nic begins to protest, but is cut off by Alex jabbing a finger into his face.

“You went. Into the woods. The creepy, scary woods where people go insane and _die_ and you didn’t even bother to tell anybody about it. You are _not_ allowed to argue with me.”

“-need… looking… after…” Nic trails off. “Um.”

“Point made, I think,” says Alex triumphantly, and glances at her watch. “Okay. As soon as Geoff gets here, I’m going shopping. Your cupboard is in drastic need of restocking.”

“Thanks, _mom_ ,” Nic says, burrowing insistently into the cushions.

* * *

 

Alex lets herself back into the house a while later, hair soaked with rain and clothes dripping. She’s got bags of groceries hanging from her arms. She heads directly to the kitchen, and after a short silence the oven is turned on and the sound of plates and cutlery clinking spills out from inside. It’s a few minutes before she emerges again.

“Hey, you,” she says, ruffling Nic’s hair as she passes him.

He grins up at her. “Hey. What are you cooking?”

“Soup, hopefully. You hungry?”

“Like you wouldn’t believe.”

Alex pats his arm, and turns to Geoff, who’s watching television on the other couch. “How many cults did he get accidentally involved in while I was gone?”

“I don’t get _involved_ in cults,” Nic protests drowsily.

“At least three,” Geoff says dryly. “Maybe four, if I wasn’t paying attention.”

“Typical,” Alex sighs. “Well, we’ll have to cancel his membership before he gets _too_ involved in ritual sacrifices and strange chanting.”

“I _don’t_ ,” begins Nic, a bit louder this time, but Alex and Geoff just laugh.

* * *

 

There’s a knock on the door at about eight o’clock at night, and since Nic’s sleeping, Alex is the one to open it.

“Hey,” says Meerkatnip, who’s standing on the front door step and has her laptop tucked under one arm and an umbrella in the other, sheltering her from the rain that’s now liberally misting over the Pacific North West. “How’s he doing?”

“Better,” she says, giving the other woman a quick, curious glance- this is the first time they’ve met, other than some hastily compiled, panicked messages sent via various internet sources, and certainly the first time they’ve seen each other in real life. “You were watching?”

“There’s a café a couple of streets over,” she says, shifting awkwardly on the step. “I was monitoring the CCTV feeds in the area. I didn’t tell him, but there were a few weird, unregistered vans milling around out here, so I thought I should keep an eye on the house.”

“He attracts cults like catnip, doesn’t he,” Alex huffs, and then bites her lip, regretting the choice of words. “Um, I mean-”

“Yeah, no problem, I get it,” MK says, apparently not bothered. “Anyway, I sent their cars rolling down the street. They really shouldn’t leave their Bluetooth on while they’re trying to stalk people, _anybody_ could work their way into the system and take over.”

“Cool.” Alex relaxes; the cultists or whoever they were are probably picking their possessions out of the wreckage by now. “Thanks, MK.”

“No problem.” MK sighs. “I’m heading home now. Any weird cults attracted by Nic’s podcast are now officially your issue to deal with.”

Alex rolls her eyes. “Eh, I’m used to it. You should have seen the things he got up to in college.”

“Ooh, that’s very vague,” Meerkatnip says, raising an eyebrow. “I’m going to have to follow that up, now, you know that?”

“Don’t embarrass him too much on the podcast,” Alex advises, and the two of them exchange genuine smiles for a second.

“I’ve gotta get going,” MK decides, adjusting her umbrella. “Lots to do before bed. There’s at least three security systems in New Jersey that are just begging to be cracked open.”

Alex winces. “No offense, MK, but I don’t want to know.”

“I get it,” MK agrees. “You’re probably right. The less you know, the shorter the jail sentence will be when _they_ eventually catch up with you.”

She shoots Alex a cheerful wink, and disappears into the rain within a matter of seconds, leaving the journalist standing in the doorway, staring at her departure.

* * *

 

“Who was that?” Nic asks, only half-awake as Alex re-enters his room to close the window and fuss over him. “Cultists?”

“Just MK,” she says, straightening his blankets. “She was checking in.”

“Oh, okay,” Nic says, and goes silent.

“Hey,” she says gently, patting at his shoulder. “You all right?”

He stares at her for a moment. It strikes her, quite suddenly, how hopeless and lost he looks. He looks like somebody’s sucked all of the life and most of the blood straight out of him- leaving him pale and small against the blankets.

“It’s the Blur,” he says eventually, and shudders a bit, not saying anything else. Alex perches on the side of the bed, rubbing at his arm, lending him some of her warmth. She’s got enough to spare.

“Still in your head?” she offers.

“Always in my head,” he agrees. “I thought it went away, at first, but- it’s still there.”

He sits up, and she wraps an arm around him, noting as she does how thin he is. She squeezes him tightly. “Hey. We’re all still here, yeah?”

“Yeah,” he says. It’s flat and exhausted, but there’s still a tinge of hope to it, and that’s enough for her.

“Geoff’s on the couch,” she tells him. “MK’s keeping an eye on everything, and I’ll be just outside if you need me, all right?”

“I don’t know why you put up with me,” he mutters, cracking a weak smile.

“You’re my friend, Nic,” Alex says, giving him an affectionate look, but still hugging him. “And friends don’t let friends deal with horrible, traumatic, life-shaking events that involve unexplained phenomena and cultists alone. It was time for me to return the favour, right?”

True Companion pads into the room, and snuffles at Alex’s leg vaguely, before letting out a soft bark and bounding up onto the bed to lick at Nic’s face.

“Love you too,” he says, attempting to pet his dog and missing. “Aah- damn. Okay. I think I need sleep.”

“I think you do,” Alex agrees, untangling herself from the hug. “Do you need painkillers?”

“No,” he says. “Meerkatnip sorted it.”

“God bless MK. ‘Night, Nic.”

“G’night, Alex.”

Alex crosses to the door, and turns the light off.

The darkness isn’t so bad this time.


End file.
